The Summer Deal (Wildstone #5)(29)

“I’m Cindy,” she said, jumping to her feet. “My dad thinks farting is funny, but my mom doesn’t.”

“Okay,” Brynn said, biting back a laugh. “Thank you.”

The girl in glasses next to Cindy was bouncing in place with excitement.

“I’m Tabitha. Sometimes in the middle of the night, my mommy yells at my daddy to go faster.”

Brynn chewed on the inside of her mouth. “Interesting. Thank you.”

Next was a little boy missing both front teeth. “I’m Toby. The tooth fairy gives me different amounts of money depending on whether I’m at my mom’s or at my dad’s house. Why would that happen?”

“Uh . . .” Brynn racked her brain. “Maybe the tooth fairy sells the teeth and demand fluctuates depending on which house it comes from?”

Toby processed this answer and put his hand down.

Huh. That actually worked.

Just then, Kinsey popped her head into the classroom, and there was an immediate chorus of “Hi, Ms. Davis!” telling Brynn that as unsociable as Kinsey had been with her, she was the opposite with the kids, who all genuinely appeared to love her.

Toby ran to Kinsey and hugged her tight before racing back to the circle.

“Deck’s kid,” Kinsey explained.

Brynn moved to the door for privacy. “I’m boggled.”

“What, that I’d stop by and see you?”

“That the kids adore you.”

Kinsey actually laughed. Note to self: All you have to do to keep the new roommate in line is out-bitch the bitch. “Thought we had to say something nice for every not nice thing.”

“You’re right,” Brynn said. “Your clothes are amazing.” She paused, let a beat of time go by. “But why do the kids adore you?”

Kinsey shrugged. “Maybe they know something you don’t.”

Yeah, and that was what was bugging her. How was it that she brought out the worst in this woman, someone others clearly loved and adored? There was no point in asking. Kinsey wouldn’t answer. Hell, she probably didn’t know the answer. “What can I do for you, Ms. Davis?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to see if you were drowning.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

Kinsey blew a kiss at the kids and walked off.

“You and Ms. Davis kinda look alike,” Tabitha said when Brynn moved back to the share circle.

Brynn glanced at the window to catch her reflection. Stilled. Then pushed her glasses up. They did sort of look alike. How annoying was that?





Chapter 10


From twelve-year-old Kinsey’s summer camp journal: Dear Journal,

Ugh. Sometimes I wonder if you hate our times together as much as I do. I’ve got a fever, so I’m stuck in the nurse’s cabin and not allowed to be near any of the others in case I’m contagious. The counselor said she called my mom to come get me. Good luck, lady. She’s with her latest dumbass at some music festival. No way she’s going to give that up.

Eli snuck in last night after dark. He’s got every girl here stupid over him, but I decided to forgive him for that because he had forbidden snacks with him.

Hate you,

Kinsey

“BREATHE, KINSEY.”

She did, but not because Deck was telling her to. She breathed because she needed air to tell him exactly what she thought of him right then. “You suck.”

“That’s it,” he said in his low, gravelly voice, the one she found so sexy. He stroked a big, callused hand up and down her arm. “Only one more poke.”

“I hate this,” she gritted out.

“I know.”

“And right now I hate you.”

“I know that too.”

She sighed and kept her eyes squeezed shut while Deck hooked her up for dialysis.

“Find a good memory to replay,” he said.

That was his trick, teaching her to pretend she was somewhere else.

“Remember the bluffs,” he said.

A few weeks ago, he’d driven her to the beach. Most people parked there and went to the sand. But there were walking trails all over the hills, one leading straight to the top.

Kinsey got winded too quickly to use the trails, and for what had seemed like forever now, she’d felt like she had the flu. Tired. Nauseous. Off.

There was no way she could get to the top under her own steam. So Deck had four-wheeled her up in his off-road vehicle. Without saying a word or making her feel incapable, he’d carefully buckled her in, checked her helmet, made sure her face mask was in place to keep out dust.

And then he’d given her a hell of a ride. But not the ride of her life. That had come later that night when they’d been in his bed.

She grinned at the memory. Deck had always made a point of spending their time doing things that thrilled her. It was glorious.

He was glorious.

But he wasn’t hers. Not to keep anyway.

“Done,” Deck said calmly. “You can open your eyes now.”

Little-known fact: She had a needle phobia, which made dialysis a form of torture. She had a fistula implanted just beneath the skin on the inside of her left biceps, which made things a lot easier, but it still required two needle pokes each time, one for incoming blood, one for outgoing.